Fun in the Sun

With the completion of my project to convert my recently acquired Spanish villa into a top-class photographic studio facility, I was now thinking of getting down to actually doing some work. The adverts for my proposed glamour photography holidays in the sun, had been placed with a selected few photographic magazines back in the UK, squarely aimed at the amateur market. Enquires were beginning to come in, and I'd even had a few e-mails from young women working as models in the UK, some of them were quite well known in the glamour modelling world, with names familiar to me, so I knew exactly who they were. Most had offered to come at a greatly reduced fee, plus air fare, just because the studio was in the Costa Del Sol, and they were looking upon it as a, 'working holiday.' I put them on file while I thought about it, after all, flights were comparatively cheap and it might be worth the gamble, if these well known, 'names,' made the photo holidays more attractive to the clients.

With the help of my Spanish language tutor, Carla, I had also placed a, 'Glamour models wanted for new studio,' advert in the local newspapers. Interviews to be held the following Saturday starting at 10am. I had also engaged Carla to be there for the duration of the auditions, to act as interpreter, because although my Spanish was coming along nicely, and I could make myself understood in most situations, I wanted the women who came along to know exactly what was required of them, there could be no misunderstandings, this was business. Despite the fact that Carla and I had become secret lovers, I was paying her the going rate for the job to keep everything outside our relationship on a strictly business basis. I still paid her for my Spanish lessons, and this was no different.

On the Saturday morning, Carla duly arrived about 9.30am and we got everything ready, hoping that we may get a few prospective models out of it. I had set up a trestle table, with bottles of water, etc, for the models rather than for me. I could get a drink anytime, but if these women were forced to wait their turn out in the sun, then I didn't want any of them getting dehydrated.

I had decided to video the auditions to remind me when I was making my final selections, just who I wanted to offer work to, and what each of the women looked and sounded like. An understanding of English would also be handy, if they were going to model for the, 'Fun In The Sun,' photography holidays, because most of the clients would be coming from the UK. It wouldn't be so important if they were working one to one with me, as I now had a decent understanding of the language, although by no means fluent. With the video camera set up on a tripod, Carla, went out to welcome any early arrivals, and there were a few, so as we were ready anyway, we started the first of the auditions early.

Funnily enough, this first candidate was called Carla too. This could get confusing I thought momentarily, but stealing a sideways glance at

my

Carla, I thought

no

, there's nobody like

my

Carla. Anyway, this Carla was a lovely woman too, but very different of course. She looked around, glancing at the display photo prints on the walls. She looked a little nervous as was only to be expected, but gave us a lovely smile before sitting down on the chair provided. She crossed her beautiful legs, and looked at us expectantly.

When interviewing models, it's an idea to get to what I call the 'filters,' straight away. It's no use seeing a girl who would make a great model looks wise, and wasting time talking to her at length, if she's not prepared to do the work on offer. In this case any work offered would involve nudity, so if they weren't prepared to do that, then that would be the end of the story. Therefore, almost the first question would be, 'are you prepared to be photographed topless and nude?' If the answers were no, the interview would end there and then, it maybe sounds cruel, but it saves time, and in business, 'time is money.'

As I said, this Carla was a lovely looking woman who told us she was twenty-three years old, and we had no reason to disbelieve her, although we would be checking her passport or I.D. as a matter of course to make sure. Everything had to be legal and above board for this venture - we didn't want any trouble with the law. We got her to produce her I.D. and hold it up for the camera, and photographed it, which we would be doing for everyone, so I won't mention it here again. Take it as read, that every woman working in my studio would be checked to make sure she was of an age to do so legally, and every woman mentioned in the stories were likewise.

But I digress, so getting back to the first woman to be auditioned, the

other

Carla, she was 23 years old, about five foot six inches tall which is a good height for a glamour model. Very slim, and as I said earlier, had great legs too. Her hair was dark, but not black, with some chestnut highlights, brown eyes, a lovely sensual mouth, and nice teeth when she smiled, a good face, very attractive.

'Are you prepared to pose topless and nude?' Carla asked, after the preliminaries were covered. She looked at us, hesitating a second or two, and then nodded. She was asked again, just to make sure, and smiling this time answered aloud, more confidently, that she would. 'That's great, we think you will make a good model,' she was told. 'Now we want to see what you look like properly, so could you please undress?' She looked a little taken aback, a look we were going to see a lot of during the course of the day, and usually followed by, 'What? Now?' If they weren't prepared to show us their figure, it may mean similar problems in the future, so best to get over the, 'modesty,' hurdle now. When she realised we were serious, she stood up and I thought she was about to leave, but she reached behind herself, pulled down the zip of her dress, let it fall to the floor and stepped out of it, she did the same with her lacy white bra, unclipping it, and placed it on the seat where she'd been sitting, and then without hesitation pulled down the matching white, and very tiny panties, and stepped out of them too. She had a fabulous figure, very slim and well-toned, natural breasts in perfect proportion to her body, 34C, she told us, and her lovely pussy was shaven to perfection, showing a very nice and prominent labia. Her bare legs were shapely and slim. We asked her to turn around so we could see her from behind, which she duly did, and we told her we thought she looked wonderful. Another lovely smile lit up her face, and she thanked us for our time. We told her to get dressed, and that we would be in touch to arrange a test shoot to give us some professional shots to showcase her to possible clients. The fact that she spoke reasonably good English was also a plus point. Our first audition was over, a good successful start.

The parade of women continued most of the day with varying degrees of success. The usual 5'2" fashion model wannabees, who became angry and argumentative when we told them that fashion models were very tall, usually a minimum of 5'8", and anyway, the advert made it clear that we weren't offering fashion work. Then, at least two had a drug problem, emaciated and skeletal, and would obviously try anything for their next fix, so no thank you! We were nice about it, but moved them on quickly.

We had scheduled the auditions to finish at 4pm, but when we went outside, there were still quite a few to see. I had a chat with Carla, just to check, and we decided to work on until 5pm, and after that we would ask any remaining candidates we hadn't managed to see to come back on Monday evening. Come 5pm, we had had enough, thanked the remaining women for coming, but explained we couldn't stay any longer, and told them we would see them on Monday evening around 6pm if they were interested, but if they couldn't manage that, then they should e-mail us, and we would make an appointment. There was some obvious disappointment amongst them, but Carla and I were both exhausted. It had been a long day, and we weren't finished yet. I asked Carla if there were any obvious, 'stand-outs,' for her and she immediately said 'Carla,' was one for sure, and then looking at her notes, named about ten or twelve others. The other twenty or so candidates weren't up to scratch. Maybe one or two of them with a little bit of guidance would be acceptable, but not the others. We had also told a few other girls to come back when they were eighteen if they were still interested, but right now, they were too young and illegal. It was good to see we were pretty much in accord as regards the choices we had made. I thanked her for helping me out, paid her, and off she went, home to her husband and a well-deserved rest.

Rather than cook for myself, I decided to go into the local town and get something to eat at a restaurant for a change. I parked near the old harbour, and walked back towards the main street, checking out the taverns and restaurants until I found one that looked attractive and cheery. It was a bit on the early side really, the Spanish like to eat late, but I thought that would suit me fine, since I was tired. My plan was to get in early and get out before the crowd arrived, so in I went. I smiled at the attractive young woman who approached as I entered, and showed me to a table. She looked to be in her early thirties, I estimated.

'Will you be expecting company sir?' she asked me in very good English, and I replied that I would be eating alone.

'Your English is very good,' I commented, 'but how did you know to speak English to me?' I asked her with a smile. She smiled in return, and it was a beautiful warm smile.

'You're too pale to be Spanish, even though you have got a slight sun tan, and I guessed you might be English, and I was right, 'she said.

'You're a very clever young woman, but on this occasion you've got it very badly wrong. I'm not English, would you care to guess again?' I teased her. She looked at me, still smiling, and handed me a menu.

'Let's see, Dutch, German, Norwegian? But you're English is very good, better than mine anyway,' she confessed. 'Go on put me out of my misery please,' she pleaded.

'I'm not English, or Norwegian, but geographically very close to both in a way, I'm Scottish,' I explained.

'Ah, I mustn't get you confused with the English then, that would be unforgivable of me wouldn't it?' And now it was her turn to tease me.

'Oh, I don't know, I think I might just about manage to forgive a lovely looking woman like you anything,' I said, flirting a little with her as I looked at the menu. She positively beamed another gorgeous smile at me, then suddenly all business like, she asked if I had made my choice from the menu, but adding that there was no hurry really if I hadn't. As it happened, I

had

made up my mind. I gave her my order and as she hurried off, I watched her making her way between the tables. She had a great figure, very slim, with curves in all the right places, and really nice legs too. The shoulder length dark hair was swept back in a pony tail, and her face was lightly made-up, just enough to enhance her strong clear-cut features. A touch of eye make-up to enhance those already wonderful eyes, and a hint of lipstick was all it took to complete the effect, and the effect was really lovely. She was very attractive, or maybe it was just because I'd been looking at half naked women all day and despite my tiredness, was feeling horny. I dismissed that unworthy thought almost immediately, no I told myself, she

was

lovely, no doubt about that, and when she walked in my direction again, I couldn't take my eyes off her. She noticed me looking at her and smiled again, I was liking her more and more.

'Would you care to order a drink while you wait sir, wine perhaps?' she asked me, but I declined saying I was driving, and besides, I didn't drink much, so iced water would be fine. 'Very good sir,' she replied, 'Your food should be ready soon.'

'Your English is very good... Elena,' I said, squinting cheekily at the name tag on her prominent bosom. 'Where did you study?' she smiled and thanked me.

'I didn't study it apart from school,' she explained, 'but I worked in the UK for about five years when I was younger, in various hotels, first in London and then with the same company in Edinburgh, which is where I learned not to confuse a Scotsman with an Englishman.' We both smiled at the shared confidence.

'Please don't call me "sir" Elena,' I asked her, 'I feel I should look behind me to see who you're talking to when you do.' She smiled sweetly, and I told her my name. Just then, the owner or manager called out to her, and she excused herself, saying she'd be back in a minute; my food was ready.

'Here we are,' she said, laying the dishes out on the table. 'I hope you enjoy your food.'

'You're not very busy at the moment are you,' I observed. She looked around the room, and shrugged.

'No, not at all, but an hour or so from now this place will be very busy, which is why I'm just going off duty, to have something to eat too, before the evening rush. Bon appetite,' she wished me, making to leave, but I stopped her.

'I just wonder Elena,' I said, not wishing to appear too pushy or desperate. 'If you would care to join me while having your dinner? If it's not against house rules, of course, and if the idea of sitting with me, a customer isn't too awful to contemplate, and only if you want to, you could perhaps take your food out here, sit down and keep me company? I promise I won't be offended if you say no, but it's never good to eat alone and you, I think, would be lovely company.' Much to my surprise, she agreed, and a few minutes later appeared with a plate, and sat down opposite. I thanked her for sharing her time with me, and we started chatting as we ate.

We got on very well, she was intelligent, vivacious, and easy to talk to. Very outgoing, which funnily enough is what I look for in a model, and I almost instantaneously liked her, which is also a good thing. Being able to build some rapport with a model is very important, in my opinion anyway. Inevitably of course the question came.

'So, what do you do, are you here on holiday?' she asked me, so I told her the truth.

' No, I used to work in the oil industry, but I was made redundant late last year, and I decided to go for a change of career. I've loved photography for quite a few years now, and decided that I would become a professional photographer, and do something I loved for a change. On top of that, I also decided that a new start somewhere else would be good, so I bought a villa, here on the Costa Del Sol, and converted it so I could use it as a studio and work from there.'

'So, what kind of photography do you do, is it weddings and families, that type of thing?' came the next inevitable question. I suppose, since most people's only experience with photographers is at weddings and other family occasions, it makes that inevitable question, well... inevitable. Depending on how open and broadminded she was, my next answer could be the end of a burgeoning friendship, which would be a shame.

'No, I've never photographed a wedding in my life,' I told her, and then continued describing what I did in exactly the same way that I had told it to Carla. 'Mind you, I've photographed quite a few brides in their bridal lingerie.' She looked surprised.

'What do you mean, brides in bridal lingerie?' she asked.

'Well, as you probably know, most brides spend a lot of money on the wedding dress, but they also spend a lot of money on what they are wearing under the dress. Very expensive white lingerie, with white stockings, the works.' She nodded, following my drift completely. 'Some of them want to be photographed wearing their wedding lingerie and give the photos in a secret and very private wedding album to their new husband. That's what I do, or rather part of what I do.

'What do the husbands think of you seeing their wives in their underwear? Don't they get jealous and want to shoot you or something? It could prove to be dangerous, I think' and she laughed.

'No, no, in fact most of the husbands are very happy. They are so proud of their beautiful wives, surely you can understand that?' and she agreed with me on that point, so I continued. 'They seem delighted with the photos of their bride in lingerie, and sometimes even less,' I slipped in.

'What, do you mean... ' and she looked around conspiratorially, lowering her voice... nude?' She seemed fascinated by my revelations, and I confirmed her suspicions with the proverbial nod and a wink.

'And you get paid to do this?' she said, almost in disbelief, and I confirmed that I did, and very well too.

'It's called, Boudoir Photography,' I added. She said nothing for a minute or two, eating, chewing slowly, obviously thinking of what to say, and I let the silence hang there, but also wondering if I'd maybe said too much.

'When I was younger,' she said, changing the subject, 'I often dreamed and fantasised about being a model. Just silly, teenage dreams though. I didn't have a clue where to begin and I just forgot about it. You've reminded me of that. I'm glad for you that you're following your dreams, it must be a wonderful feeling to be doing something you love,' she concluded.

'Yes it is Elena, I'm happier now than I've been for a long time,' but I felt so sad for her as I said it. 'How about you? You're a beautiful woman, you're not too old, you could still do some modelling if you wanted to. I could help you if you want.' I offered. She smiled, a sad wistful smile.

'No, I don't think so, I'm too old, modelling is a young girl's career, not for somebody my age. Who would want me?' she mused.

'I would,' I said immediately. 'I'd love to photograph you. When I said you were beautiful Elena I meant it. You have something that most of those 18 to 25, year olds just haven't got, and that's personality, confidence, poise, sophistication. You look classy, and beautiful, and you have a lovely figure and legs too. You must have noticed me looking.' She laughed, and nodded in agreement. 'I'd photograph you in a heartbeat if you let me.' Her air of sadness was lifting by the second. 'Furthermore,' I continued, 'I've spent the whole day interviewing possible models for my new studio, which is why I am so tired and exhausted tonight, and after I leave here, I'm going straight home to relax, read a book, or whatever, and go to bed early.' Now she was smiling again. 'I'll tell you now Elena, we interviewed about 6o young women today, and are only interested in about 8 or 10 of them. If you had been there, you would have been an automatic choice, that's how highly I think of you.'

'Wow, that's some speech,' she laughed, then more seriously. 'You're not joking, are you? I think you really mean it.'

'Too bloody right I mean it,' I said emphatically. 'Let me photograph you, and you'll see just how good you can look, and if you decide it's not for you, then at least you've tried. Don't look back in twenty years' time, filled with regrets and say, "Oh I wish..." because there's nothing worse than regrets.' I finished.

'If I did decide to do it, when would you want me?' she asked, and knowing how easy it was for doubts to creep in if left too long to think about it, I thought the sooner the better.

'I'm free tomorrow afternoon about 2pm, if you can manage,' I suggested. She thought for a moment... a long moment.

'Okay, I can manage that. Where do I come to?' so I gave her the address, and then she said, 'what do you want me to wear?' This where it could all far apart, I thought.

'I like to start off with the model fully dressed, and gradually move on to the lingerie shots,' I said. 'So, take maybe a couple of dresses, or skirts and blouses, and a few different sets of lingerie. Stockings if you have them, and high heel shoes too,' I added. 'Does that sound okay to you?' I asked, hoping that it did.